The Diary of Mary Jane Watson
by Mary J. Watson
Summary: Behind every great man is an even greater woman. Mary Jane Watson is more than just Peter Parker and Spiderman's future wife. Read her own diary and see the real woman behind the mask.
1. March 8th: The Beginning

Tuesday, March 8th: 7:06 am

The back of my shirt was immediately soaked by the cold alley wall as Spider-Man pushed me up against it. I could feel his heavy breathing through the mask he wore over his face. It was hot against my throat. He's so fast, so strong. I feel that he could crush me if he wanted to. But he didn't. He held his body against mine, his gloved fingers pressing firmly into the soft flesh of my upper arms, holding me against the brick wall.

"I'm beginning to think," I could tell he was on the verge of laughing, his deep voice curling in sensuous delight, "the reason you keep getting yourself into trouble is just to see me."

For the first time in my life, I couldn't think of the right thing to say. I was stunned by his brash move but I couldn't keep the corners of my mouth from turning up.

"Ya know, ma'am," His voice dropped an octave as he brought his masked mouth to my ear. He spoke in a whisper that gave me goose bumps, "If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was ask."

In the distance, an alarm is sounding; blaring sirens growing louder with every second. He hears the alarm and his head jerks towards the opening of the alleyway but his grip doesn't loosen on my arms, nor does he pull his rigid hard body away from mine.

"Don't go," I whisper. Upon hearing my voice, he turns back to look at me, his helpless victim. I'm looking, _searching_, into the opaque ovals that cover his eyes. "Please."

He releases his grip on my arms. With the back of his gloved hand, he traces my cheekbone then steps away from me.

"You know how to find me."

The sirens blare louder. Louder. And louder still. The scenery becomes foggy until the alleyway begins to melt away. I try to reach out for Spider-Man but my fingers slip through him.

"If I have that damned alarm clock waking me up one more time, Mary Jane Watson, I'm going to throw it outta the window!" The alarm clock couldn't wake me from my splendid dream but Uncle Brown's bellowing definitely could. "And then I'll throw you outta the window to get it!"

Welcome to my life, diary. Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be one Hell of a ride.


	2. March 8th

Tuesday, March 8th: 9:30 PM

Dear Diary, (I guess that's how you start these things?)

Let me begin by telling you my name: Mary Jane Watson. I'm sixteen-years-old and I go to Midtown High School in the great city of New York. It's a pretty nice school but really, it's just like any other one out there. I've been to a few so I should know.

Well, let's get this rolling. I started this thing because my favorite relative, Aunt Anna, was worried about me. We got into something of an argument last night when I came over for dinner and she accused me of "bottling up" my feelings. My Aunt Anna and I never _actually "_fight", persay. Her and Mother Theresa are two peas in a pod, and come on, who can fight with Mother Theresa? Honestly.

The "argument" lasted about five minutes and really all it consisted of was me and her sitting down to dinner, me keeping my mouth shut and sweet Aunt Anna talking softly over her meatloaf.

In a nutshell, this is what Aunt Anna said:

1) I ought to stop "bottling up" my emotions.

2) I should talk to someone about what was happening at home.

3) She wants me to meet "the boy next door".

I can't forget one particular thing she said to me: "Mary Jane, sweetheart, the past is a monster for attention. Ignore it and it'll eat you alive. Acknowledge it and its hunger will fade away."

I kept my mouth shut, opening it only to tell her that I have my life handled and if it would make her feel better, I'd start to write in a diary to "unbottle my emotions".

As for "the boy next door"… as if! I know what those two are plotting and truth be told, I can't really be expected to hold up a conversation with a guy who can't even look me in the eyes.

So, diary, I guess this is the part where I talk about my family life. I live with my Uncle Brown, my mother and my older sister, Gayle. Uncle Brown works the graveyard shift so that he can support my mom, my sister and me. We never really see him. My mom works a double-shift so that she can pay for Gayle's dance lessons with a private instructor. We never really see her either.

Gayle is a fabulous dancer, diary! She's a senior at Midtown High and I know that when she graduates she could definitely go to Julliard. I mean, if she goes to college. Mom doesn't talk about it but she's worried about Gayle and her boyfriend. She's afraid that Gayle is going to fuck up her future just so she can be with him.

Keep this between us, diary… I can't stand him either! I've seen him at more than a dozen parties and he's a total prick. I can't count how many times he's made a pass at me. ME! His girlfriend's little sister! He's one of those honors students who thinks he's hot shit just because he can spell ambidextrous and stuff like that. Well newsflash, dickwad! That's what they have dictionaries for! I want to tell Gayle that she could do better but she is so happy with him… and I know that there are very few things in this world that can bring a smile to her face nowadays. Plus, what would happen if she didn't believe me? I couldn't bare losing her. She's the only person in this world who knows exactly what I went through as a kid only because she went through it too.

My family life. Wow, now there's a doozy of a subject! It goes a lot deeper than all that stuff I said earlier but how about we tackle that one tomorrow night? I'm about to sneak out because my boyfriend, Flash Thompson, "borrowed" his dad's Porsche and is on his way over to pick me up. The car has to be home before his dad wakes up for work so maybe, if I'm not too tired, I'll write down my little sob-story for you when I get home.

…It's going to be a long night so don't wait up for me, diary!


	3. March 9th

Wednesday, March 9th: 8:30 pm

Dear Diary,

Since mom and Uncle Brown are never around because of work, Gayle has become my wannabe mom. As soon as I come home from school she jumps on my back about starting my homework. And today she was especially pissed because I wasn't home by the time she had to leave for dance practice.

I got a note telling me to call her as soon as I got home so I did. Of course she told me to start the homework and I hate lying to her but she thinks I'm doing my homework right now but obviously I'm not. Instead of getting frustrated over pre-cal and Shakespeare, I'm keeping my stress levels down by writing in you, diary. Doctors think if you keep your stress levels down then you'll live longer. Well, really, I'm doing the more responsible thing by NOT doing my homework. Right? Ha, like you could answer that! I'm really beginning to like this whole diary thing.

Today was quite uneventful. I got home from the little rendezvous with Flash at 4:30 this morning. We went to one of his friends' houses because their parents were out of town. We had a grand ol' time with the open bar but after two hours of sleep and a night of partying, my head was killing me when I woke up. That's killing with a capital K! I popped a couple Tylenol then caught the bus and laughed the whole way at poor Flash who winced at every bump on the way to school.

Midtown High is about four miles away from Aunt Anna's townhouse but it was a crisp day, slightly on the colder side, so the walk after school to her house was an easy one.

The walk gave me time to think about things that I did not want to think about. As much as I wanted to drown out my thoughts, I had nothing to drown them out with.

"God gave us eyes so that we can look forward. If he had wanted us to look back, our eyes would be in the back of our head." I reminded myself but that really didn't help one bit. Two miles from Aunt Anna's I started to run, ignoring the fact that I was wearing kitten-heeled boots. Save my high heels or start crying from those damn thoughts of mine? You better believe I kept on running all the way there.

Aunt May and Aunt Anna were sitting on the front porch when I got there, breath ragged from running. They were drinking tea and talking; their soft voices like the cooing of pigeons. I never noticed until then how similar Aunt May and Aunt Anna are. Aunt May is like the skinnier, slightly taller version of my Aunt Anna. My Aunt Anna is just a little plump from a few too many sugar dumplings.

I could tell that they were talking about me because as soon as I walked up their voices hushed. They smiled up at me as I walked onto the porch.

"Oh great." I smiled, laughing softly as I tucked a sweaty strand of red hair behind my ear. "Are you two plotting against me again?"

They giggled and Aunt May sat her teacup down onto her knee then spoke.

"Of course not, dear. We were only talking about how nice it would be for you to come over to my place after school tomorrow." There was a twinkle in her eye. A mischievous twinkle. "I have an apple pie that needs to be eaten and you've been looking rather thin lately."

"You're the one to talk, May Parker!" Aunt Anna laughed, taking a sip of her tea.

"Hush, Anna." Aunt May smiled over at Aunt Anna then looked back up at me. "What do you say, dear? Should I be expecting you?"

I knew what this was about. I knew exactly what this was about. …Peter Parker.

"Yeah, I'll stop by for a little bit." I was quick to add, "Just because I can't say no to your apple pie."

Happy that their plot was starting to go as planned, they started to talk amongst themselves as I went inside to grab something to drink. Waterbottle in hand, I went back out to join their chit-chat.

Peter Parker isn't an ugly guy, diary. Please, please, please don't get that impression! He's not a jock like Flash Thompson but there's something in his quiet demeanor that I find charming. Let's outline the pro's and con's to Peter Parker, shall we?

**Peter Parker**

Pro- He's taller than me… definitely a good thing considering I'm already 5'8 at 16 years old.

Con- He might not be very good at holding up a conversation since he hasn't had much practice. Plus, what would we have to talk about? He would be talking about nanotechnology and I would be talking about the Frat party from the night before. It's like trying to hammer a square nail into a round hole. Just doesn't work.

Pro- Geeks are going to rule the world some day. Might as well jump on the bandwagon early, right?

Con- We don't have anything in common…? Okay so that's pretty much what I said earlier but give me a break, diary! I'm trying to think up con's and they aren't coming too easy.

Pro- He wouldn't be obsessed with football and wrestling and all that stupid jock stuff like Flash.

Con- He's really packed on the muscle lately… darn it! That's not a con!

Pro- Yeah, like I said before, Peter isn't a weak geek anymore. He's definitely been working out.

Con- I'm all out of con's. Shoot...

Alright, alright, ALRIGHT! I'll give Peter Parker a try. Oh geeze. I just hope Flash doesn't find out… he would pulverize the poor kid!


	4. March 10th

Wednesday, March 10th: 9:30 pm

Diary!!!

I was stood up! Me! I've never been stood up before and although it wasn't an official date or anything, he still never showed. Peter Parker stood me up!

Alright, diary, here's what happened…

It was about four o'clock when I got to Aunt May's townhouse in Forest Hills. After a quick inspection of my jean skirt to smooth out any wrinkles, I ran a hand through my hair then gently tapped on the door.

"Coming!" Aunt May called out in a sing-song voice. Moments later the door opened to reveal her smiling face, silver hair up in her habitual bun. "Oh, Mary Jane, I'm so glad you came. Now come on child, get out of the cold."

She ushered me inside and I laughed softly as I took a seat on the sofa. Aunt May continued speaking to me as she made her way past me and continued on into the kitchen.

"It's a cold one out there, isn't it? Yesterday was almost toasty but weather can be so fickle in March. One day it feels like summer then the next, it feels like winter again!" She continued talking as I heard her open the oven door and slide something out. There was a soft thud as whatever she took out of the oven was placed onto the counter. "Peter should be here any minute. I don't know where that boy is. It's really not like him to not come home right after school."

The living room is as you might have imagined it, diary. Not spacious but very cozy. Where a television might have normally sat, a small and modest fireplace cut out of the brick wall took its place across from the sofa. On the mantle over the fireplace were hoards of pictures, many of which contained photos of Peter throughout the years. Up until the most recent of photos, they all had one thing in common: Peter and those thick-lensed, bottle-cap glasses. I wonder whatever happened to those glasses. Maybe he got contact lenses?

After a short while, Aunt May walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates topped with a nice chunk of apple pie. She sat down beside me on the couch then handed me a plate. I smiled and took the plate, balancing it on my lap as a make-shift tabletop.

"He's probably at the library." She nodded her head as if to agree with herself. There was a shuffling upstairs that gained both of our attention. Both our heads were turned towards the stairwell when Uncle Ben came down. (Uncle Ben is Aunt May's husband, diary)

"Oh, it's just you." Aunt May said as she turned back to me and smiled pleasantly. Uncle Ben looked confused for a moment then chuckled as he came to sit in the recliner parallel to the sofa.

"I'll tell you what, Mary Jane," Uncle Ben was smiling at me as he spoke, "There's never a moment in this house where I don't feel loved."

He meant it as sarcasm but I knew it was the truth. Maybe there was something in their water that the water in Uncle Brown's house didn't have. Some sort of "Happy Chemical" that slipped through their water pipes before pouring from their faucets. Contaminated water or not, they always seemed happy. I never saw Uncle Ben or Aunt May without a smile and even Peter had this happy glow around him if he wasn't wearing a smile.

Well, diary… I spent two hours at Aunt May and Uncle Ben's and not once did Peter show his face. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was avoiding us.

Oh my gosh! What if Peter was as excited (cough) about this whole "date thing" as I was? Poor kid probably got roped into it like I did!

Poor kid… not even! That "poor kid" stood me up! And Mary Jane Watson does NOT get stood up!

At around 6:30, Uncle Ben drove me back to Uncle Brown's place. Uncle Brown was home and I nearly gasped when I walked through the screened door to see him there, sitting on the sofa. He really does remind me of that terribly overweight worm-thing from Star Wars. Balding, overweight and always shiny from sweat, Uncle Brown sat on the sofa with a large bag of Doritos on his lap. The TV was on so when I walked in and was stunned into silence he didn't even notice.

"Uncle Brown…" I finally found my tongue. "You're home?"

"This is still my home, Mary Jane." He spoke in between handfuls of Doritos, his deep rumble of a voice thick with displeasure.

I watched him for a second but had to stop as I started to feel the apple pie coming up again. It was disgusting how he focused on the TV and shoveled the chips into his mouth, small crumbs wet with spit resting on his large chest. Gayle once called his large chest man-boobs. I guess really that's what they are: man-boobs.

I started to walk past him, temporarily blocking his view to the television. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked and again, I felt the apple pie trying to resurface.

Just the fact that I'm home alone with that man is scary enough. I've locked myself in my room and for three hours I've done nothing but talk on the phone. I haven't told anyone about how Peter Parker stood me up at his Aunt and Uncle's house. Truth be told, I'm sort of disappointed that he did.

Peter is nearly a year older than me and one grade higher but everyone at Midtown High knows him. He's won every imaginable science award. Everyone knows him but notoriety isn't always a good thing… especially when its notoriety for your brains. I wish people would realize that his brainpower is going to be in hot demand after high school.

I think Peter's genius is pretty hot (even though I would never understand a word of his science talk). This is strictly between us, diary but… I think I have an inner nerd. Or, at least, a very small inner nerd.


	5. March 12th: Play Audition

Friday, March 12th: 3:15 pm

Dearest Diary,

Would you guess where I am right now? No, you'll never guess…

In a stall in the girl's bathroom at school.

Okay, so that isn't all that special but why am I in there after school? I suppose that would be the more appropriate question. Well I have four words for you, diary: A Streetcar Named Desire.

It's a great play that I'm hoping to star in. I haven't yet auditioned but I just know that I'll get the lead role of Blanche DuBois. I've been in other school-related plays but they were all a flop… especially Romeo and Juliet. After that play flopped, mom was feeling a lot like Juliet looking for that poison.

She wanted to be an actress but when she met my father that dream got derailed. I showed an interest in acting at a young age and seeing me as her potential link to a world she never quite discovered, she tried her best to keep me interested in it.

It's nice to have someone supporting you but my mom went much further than just supporting me. My acting failures became her acting failures; my victories no longer my victories but her victories as well. I loved making her smile but these failures left me totally bummed out and she only seemed to make them worse.

There was only silence in the minivan as my mom, Gayle and I drove home after the performance of Romeo and Juliet. I was in the backseat, still rubbing onto my sleeve the red lipstick that had stained my lips, when mom looked at me from the rearview mirror and said, "You could have done much better, Mary Jane."

Gayle sat in the passenger seat. As my mother said these words I saw her tense up and I knew that she wanted to defend me but she knew the extent of our mother's temper.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I could have done better. Either way, after that performance I threw myself into acting. I found a way to sort of take myself out of this world and throw myself into the character. I will become another person ten minutes from now in front of the drama director and I WILL get the role of Blanche DuBois.

It's not hard, really, putting myself into the character's shoes. It's sort of like putting myself in the "happy place". Gayle taught me how to put myself in the "happy place" when I was younger. At home I used to cry all the time when my parents fought. Hearing things break was a constant thing in the Watson household. It frightened me to hear them screaming at each other but luckily I had Gayle to keep me brave. Every night when my father finally got home from the bars after a "hard day" at work, they would start up with their accusations. Gayle and I would already be tucked into our separate beds but as soon as we heard the front door slam, she would crawl into my bed and hold me as I trembled like a leaf on a tree.

It was one of those nights when she taught me how to put myself in the "happy place".

Oh, geeze! Look at the time! I've gotta go, diary! Thanks for calming my nerves before the audition haha! I'll write later if I get the chance.


	6. March 12th: Play results!

Friday, March 12th: 9:08 pm

DIARY!,

I got it! I did it! I'm going to star as Blanche DuBois in the play, A Streetcar Named Desire!

Oh, diary, I wish you could have seen it.

I threw open the door to the bathroom stall so quickly that it crashed into the wall beside it and bounced back, nearly whacking me as I dashed out of the stall, you tucked into my armpit. I skidded out of the bathroom and down the hall, heels tapping against the linoleum like hail on a tin roof.

I reached the back of the stage just in time. They were looking for me but luckily they hadn't been looking for long.

"There was something," I began as I ran onto the stage, tossing you onto a table behind the curtains in exchange for my playbook. Good thing it was already bookmarked to the place where I needed to be. Cheeks still flushed red from the mad dash, I slowed my run then took a seat in the middle of the stage.

Breath slowing to a normal pace, I began again.

"There was something… different, about the boy. A nervousness." I tilted my chin up, clasping my hands in my lap. In the scant three seconds it took me to grab my playbook and emerge onto the stage I had already become Blanche DuBois; a soft southern drawl, a sort of beaten and battered look in my youthful eyes. "A softness. A tenderness that wasn't like a man's."

I feigned emotional turmoil as I unclasped my hands and began to wrench them together. Although I was alone on the stage, I looked up and to the left of me as if I were speaking to Blanche's suitor, Mitch.

As Blanche, I was describing my young husband's suicide to Mitch. I felt the weariness and pain in my voice begin to deepen the further along I got. I continued with the story, reading from the playbook every so often.

I stood.

"He'd stuck a…" I exhaled the words, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "A revolver, into his mouth and fired…" I touched my trembling fingertips to my lips. "So the back of his head was… was blown away."

My reading was done. Slowly, ever so slowly, I lowered the playbook so that it hung limp by my side. The drama director sat in the first row, his nose buried in a spiral notebook that he had balanced on his lap. He didn't say a thing. Rather, he let me stand up there on the stage, waiting for him to speak whenever he pleased. There was no sun peaking from the ceiling of the auditorium so how come I felt like it was beating down on me? Little beads of sweat had even formed on my forehead.

The silence stretched on into eternity. The only sound was the deep hum of the ancient air conditioning unit used to cool the entire school.

Finally he looked up and smiled at me.

"Very nice, Ms. Watson." He looked again at the notebook. I waited for a moment, thinking that maybe he would say something else but after that moment was up, he still had not said a word to me.

I felt the beads of sweat slide down the bridge of my nose. My lip quivered just once before I forced myself to smile down at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Palmer." I turned around to see a group of faces peering out from the wings of the stage. They all had their thumbs up to me. I smiled at them but their approval didn't mean much to me. I had wanted that part more than anything in the world and the only approval that would have made me happy with myself would have been Mr. Palmer's or maybe my mom's (but she wasn't there so that was totally nixed).

"We begin rehearsals after school on Monday." Mr. Palmer spoke again.

I whirled around, smile gone completely. My eyes were so wide that I thought they were going to pop right out of their sockets and roll around on the stage a bit.

"I'll be playing Blanche?" I asked in a voice weak with its incredulous undertones.

"Of course." The corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk. "I wouldn't have you playing her suitor, Mitch, now would I?"

I haven't been this happy in such a long time! I ran straight over to Aunt Anna's to tell her the great news. Her and Aunt May, having tea again, were about as excited as I was!

I rushed home to try and see Gayle before she left for dance practice but I must have just missed her.

Mom is going to be so proud of me. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I tell her the news.

I took a shower then got dressed to go out partying with some friends. Short black mini-skirt, leopard-print tank top, black high-heels and lots of makeup. Dressed to break hearts.

I had some time to kill so I went back downstairs and flipped on the TV. I was just going through the stations when the phone rang. I stopped my channel-surfing in order to reach over to the phone sitting on the end table beside the couch.

"Hey, Lisa!" I leaned back on the arm of the sofa, propping my feet up onto the opposite arm. Lisa told me about the party that we were going to tonight and I giggled with excitement, twirling the phone cord around my index finger.

"Okay, okay. That's all fine and dandy but I need a head count." Something on the TV caught my eye. A flash of red and blue, its colors reflecting easily onto the white walls in the darkness of the living room.

I threw my feet onto the floor and turned to the TV again. It was a wrestling match. Lisa continued chattering like a hyena on the phone but I didn't hear her. I was being sucked into the TV. Normally I didn't like wrestling but for the past two weeks, this program had been featuring a character named "Spider-Man" that had me addicted to the program. There was something about him that I couldn't get enough of. It was to the point where I was (and still am!) having dreams about him.

A bare-chested man ran around the ring. Spider-Man, chased close behind. The bare-chested man turned suddenly and grabbed Spider-Man, lifting him over his head and throwing him into the ropes of the ring. There was a unanimous "Ooooh" from the crowd as Spider-Man flopped onto his stomach after getting serious whiplash from being thrown into the ropes.

The bare-chested man came hurdling towards him. He lifted his foot into the air as if he were going to stomp on Spider-Man's head! I gasped in expectation of his foot connecting with Spider-Man's skull but in one quick, fluid-like motion, he had turned over onto his back, grabbed the bare-chested man's foot and as if he weighed no more than a child, tossed him into the crowd.

The fight was far from finished. The bare-chested man grunted as he pulled himself from the crowd and back into the ring. Spider-Man backed away. The bare-chested man threw himself at Spider-Man but fell forward onto his face as something jetted from Spider-Man's wrist and secured the other man's feet onto the floor of the mat.

Laughter erupted from the television.

Lisa was still chattering away about the guys that would be at the party. My focus was on the delicious man on the TV.

"Spider-Man has got Crusher stuck in his webs!" The announcer from the TV shouted.

Suddenly Lisa's talking ended. After a moment of silence she asked, "You're awfully quiet. Ya know, word around town is that you and Flash broke up. What happened? How come you ain't gonna tell your best friend, huh?"

I could feel my ruby lips moving into a terrible smirk as my eyes stayed glued onto the man they called Spider-Man. "Forget about Flash. I've got my eyes on someone better. Much, much better."

I got off the phone with Lisa after she promised to pick me up in an hour.

After the match ended with Crusher being knocked unconscious, the announcer had a one-on-one interview with the newcomer they had deemed Spider-Man. It was then that I vowed to meet him.

Charismatic, confident and heroic. It doesn't matter that he was covered head-to-toe in red and blue spandex, I _knew_ I had to have him.

Just wait and see, diary. Once Mary Jane Watson finds something she wants, she ALWAYS gets it.


	7. March 14th: Peter is who!

Sunday, March 14th: 10:20 pm

Diary.

My fingers are trembling. I can't seem to write anything legible and yet, I cannot stop writing. You've become my relief, diary…

An endless stream of words come to my tongue and yet I find myself incapable of picking the right ones to string together to make some sort of semi-legible sentence. I cannot express how I feel to anyone and only you, diary, will ever know how I feel on this sad, sad night.

Uncle Ben is…

Uncle Ben is dead. Oh my God… Uncle Ben is dead…

I can't believe this has happened.

The day started as normal as could be expected. The whole clan was home this morning; Uncle Brown, mom, Gayle and I. Uncle Brown began to grumble about how he had to sacrifice just to keep this family afloat. Mom didn't say anything, choosing silence over potentially inflicting his wrath upon herself. After breakfast, Gayle left to hang out with her boyfriend. I was alone with mom and Uncle Brown. Needless to say, I was out of there before lunchtime.

Whenever I have to get out of the house it's not much of a problem. I know any of my friends would be happy to open their doors for me but I had the strange urge to visit Aunt Anna.

Aunt Anna wasn't home but I was able to get inside via the key under the doormat that only she and I knew about. I waited for her to come home, making myself a turkey sandwich as I waited on the front porch swing. The air was subtly chilled, a strange sort of cold that was only noticeable when you stopped to think about it. Thirty minutes passed as I gently swung the bench-swing back and forth and she still wasn't back.

"Hey, Pete," Uncle Ben's voice caught my attention. "Wait up for a second."

I looked up and across the yard separating Aunt Anna and Aunt May's two townhouses. Uncle Ben was trailing after Peter, who was walking down the sidewalk towards my Aunt Anna's.

By the slightly annoyed look on Peter's face, I could tell he was in a hurry. Nevertheless, he stopped walking and turned to face his Uncle Ben. The two began to speak but their voices were out of range. I only caught little bits and pieces of what they said. Nothing of which could be strung together to make any sense.

It was obvious that I was eavesdropping by the way I stared at them. Neither of them were focused on my stare so they were completely oblivious.

"Uncle Ben," Peter spoke this time a little bit louder. What ever they were talking about was getting under Peter's skin. "I can take care of myself. Please, stop worrying about me. I'll be home whenever I can."

Uncle Ben was stunned into silence as Peter whirled back around and began stalking down the sidewalk. He was headed toward downtown.

My jaw hung slightly slack by the normally mild-mannered Peter's outburst but when he turned around and began walking my way, I quickly shut it and stared at my lap. I looked back up after he had passed. Uncle Ben was still standing there. There was a mixed look of hurt and surprise upon his face. It broke my heart to see him looking like that but I knew that if I said anything to him, he would know that I had been eavesdropping. So, I chose to stay quiet, huddled in the corner of Aunt Anna's bench-swing. Who would have guessed that would be the last expression I ever saw upon his face?

Another thirty minutes passed and I felt waves of drowsiness begin to wash over me, each wave causing my eyelids to flutter lower. I got up from the swing and went inside. I wanted to feel the cold air as I slept so I opened the window between the living room and porch then flopped down on the sofa beneath it. In seconds, I was sound asleep.

There were soft murmurs coming from, what seemed to be, behind me. My lids opened. I was instantly surprised to see how dark it had gotten. For what had meant to be an hour-long nap turned into, at least, seven hours long.

I brought my feet to the floor and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The house was dark but a yellow light washed into the living room through the window. Being slightly open, the window not only served to light up the living room but it also allowed me to hear Aunt Anna and Aunt May speaking.

"…I just don't know what's going on with him anymore, Anna. He has always been such a good kid but lately, Ben and I have been worried that he's slipping down the wrong path." It was Aunt May's voice that spoke. She sounded frail, on the brink of tears. "Out past ten every night, always so secretive… He isn't the Peter that Ben and I raised."

"Oh, May, don't say that. I'm sure he's still the same Peter." It was Aunt Anna's turn to speak. "He's going through some changes. Perhaps he just wants to go through these changes alone. Granted, this is a change for him but it is also a change for you and Ben. Things will get easier."

"Maybe you're right."

There was silence again. I stood up and as quietly as I could, I moved through the dark home and up the stairs into the spare bedroom. In the middle of the room, on the ceiling, was a light bulb with a string dangling from it. Through the dark, I found the string and pulled it. Immediately, the small room was awash in light.

The room was small and sparsely furnished but it was, as Aunt Anna had named it, my home away from home. There was only one window and it overlooked Aunt May's townhouse. Beneath the window was a small table upon which sat an even smaller television. A twin-sized daybed sat against one wall, in prime position for watching the television. Lastly, there was a walk-in closet that could have given anyone claustrophobia, even if they hadn't had it before stepping inside.

I turned the television on, the light bulb off, and then sat on the daybed. After flipping through a few channels I found Spider-man on that same wrestling program. The program was almost over but Spider-man was able to get a few words in before the camera panned out.

I leaned in to listen when suddenly there was a loud -POP-, -POP-. The sound made my blood run cold and although I had never heard the sound of a real gun being shot, I had seen enough movies to recognize the sound. For a moment I didn't know what to do. I sat on the daybed until finally I made sense of what was happening, or had already happened, and I ran to the window.

There was the sound of wheels screeching but I was too late to see the car speeding off. I heard Aunt May's scream come from her house and I saw Aunt Anna's outline, through the darkness, running across the lawn.

I'm ashamed to tell you how reluctant I was to run over to Aunt May's… but after a few minutes had passed, I gathered the courage to run over there.

What I saw, I will never be able to wash from my memory…

Uncle Ben laid on the living room floor. Aunt May had his head cradled on her lap. She caressed his silver hair, terrible sobs ripping themselves from her throat.

"Is he-" I attempted to speak but found myself unable to.

"Mary Jane!" Aunt Anna had been standing at Uncle Ben's feet and had not noticed when I walked in through the open door. She looked at me now, her cheeks wet with tears. "Go outside and wait for the ambulance."

I nodded my head. Before I walked back outside I stole one more look at Aunt May. She had begun screaming out her sobs, tears wetting Uncle Ben's closed eyelids. Quiet, serene and always composed Aunt May…

I went outside but did not wait for the ambulance. Rather, I went back to sit in the spare bedroom at Aunt Anna's. From the window I could monitor everything that was happening at Aunt May's.

The ambulances arrived there shortly but there wasn't anything they could do. Uncle Ben had been shot twice by an unidentified burglar. The first shot had hit him in the shoulder and would not have killed him if he hadn't been shot again so close to the heart.

All this time, I was unable to cry. I wanted to cry but I couldn't. The tears just wouldn't come. Aunt Anna was right when she said I had a problem expressing my emotions, diary…

At least six police cars had parked outside the Parker's residence by 9:25 and at 9:40 I saw Peter running up to the home. He weaved through the crowd that was gathered and held back by yellow police tape. He sped into the house and I could almost imagine the horrible scene as it unfolded.

My head was spinning so I closed my eyes, rubbing my closed eyelids with the tips of my fingers. To think that there were people in this world who could so carelessly take a life… and not just any life… the life of the sweetest, most caring man the world had ever known.

I reached forward and gripped the windowsill before I could stumble back. My eyes opened and I focused on the light that was now on in Peter's bedroom. His room was directly across from the spare bedroom that I stood in now. The light suddenly turned off again and a dark shadow moved to the windowsill. Quickly the window was opened and Spider-man jumped onto the windowsill. He raised his arm into the air and shot out something like a web from his wrist.

The sighting lasted only three seconds before he quickly swung off into the night.

I know what Spider-man's appearance means but… but I can't handle it. I can't seem to take the information in. It just doesn't compute. Oh, but diary, it makes perfect sense and yet, it doesn't make sense at all

**Peter Parker is Spider-man.**

…I refuse to acknowledge this. It's just too much to take in.

This is going to be wiped clean from my memory starting now. I can't handle it and so, I'm going to do what I always do: I'm going to forget it.

Peter Parker is not Spider-man. Peter Parker is just the boy next door.


	8. March 21st: Uncle Ben's funeral

Sunday, March 21st: 11:00 am

Diary.

Today was the first day I was in a church in over ten years. The shame that I felt the night that Uncle Ben died has only multiplied this past week. I guess I never analyzed my actions this past week until I sat in the pew, looking up at a sorrowful Christ on the cross.

I've never been one for religion, diary. I don't know what happens when you die. I would not classify myself as Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, or any other religion out there. But there is one thing to be said: when you're sitting in front of Christ and the cross upon which he was crucified and you look up into that face of his… you can't help but feel guilty about SOMETHING.

And I guess I had SOMETHING to be guilty about. I don't know why I do this, diary… I'm not proud of this but after Uncle Ben died I began partying harder than I had ever partied. Out of the house by 9:30 and not home until 5:30.

But, please! Before you judge me, before you mark me off as some cold bitch, just hear me out. I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle thinking about what all had happened! I'm not trying to make this some sob story, diary, but it's the honest-to-God truth. I couldn't be around all those tears, all those sad faces. I didn't want to cry. I thought that if I ignored the feelings that they would go away. I didn't want to feel sad so I did what I do best: I ran from it. I hid away like some coward; running to the cheery, smiling faces of my friends. I drank away those sad faces so that I could smile. I don't want to be sad, diary. I don't want to be sad!

Uncle Ben's funeral service was beautiful. There was a short memorial for him at Forest Park Chapel and was followed by a longer service outside in the cemetery for close friends and relatives.

I wasn't going to come. Aunt Anna had asked me if I'd like to accompany her to the church but suddenly struck down with terror at the thought of a funeral and a church, I told her that I had a Sunday rehearsal for the school play. She could tell I was lying but she nodded her head and quietly said, "Well, that's a pity."

I was with Lisa and Flash when the time came round for the memorial service to begin. Flash was driving us around in his birthday present, a flashy convertible Porsche. He was racing down the residential streets, top down, trying to show off the speed of his new toy. Lisa was in the backseat, giggling. I remember turning around to smile back at her from the passenger's seat but the smile never came.

I started thinking about the memorial service. A panicked look must have crept into my eyes because Lisa immediately stopped laughing and began to look very worried.

"Hey, MJ… what's wrong?" Lisa asked then reached forward and hit Flash's shoulder a few times. "Flash, something's wrong with MJ."

He was grinning, golden-blonde locks pushed back by the wind. "What? Too fast for you, baby?" When I didn't say anything he looked over at me. I was staring forward in my seat, fingers clenching and unclenching in my palms so that the nails dug into my skin repeatedly.

"Flash, I need you to take me to Queens Boulevard." I looked over at him. I could feel the panicked look draining from my face but only because I forced it to.

"Queens Boulevard?" His blonde brows furrowed in confusion. "…Okay."

He shrugged his shoulders then spun the wheel so that he made a sharp U-turn. The engine roared and we began racing towards Queens Boulevard and Forest Park Chapel.

"There." I pointed to the chapel. Flash pulled up in front of the chapel and began to grin.

"What?" Flash draped his arm around my seat and leaned in close to my face. "We getting' married or somethin'?"

I opened the car door and nearly jumped out. "I'm sorry guys. I'll call you later, okay?"

"But, babe!" Flash yelled out but I was already running up to the chapel doors. A few stragglers in black were walking up to the door as well and I fell in behind them. I wasn't dressed for the funeral, black tank top and blue jeans, but I didn't stick out like a sore thumb either.

It was time for me to suck it up and stop being scared all the time.

I walked into the church and slid into the last pew. It sounded as if everyone were crying. It wasn't loud sobs but there was the occasional sniffle and nose being blown.

The service began and I knew I couldn't run. This was the right thing to do. I had loved Uncle Ben. Who hadn't loved him? As soon as I hit ten, hanging out with "old people" wasn't the cool thing to do anymore but before that, I used to spend a lot of time with Uncle Ben and Aunt May whenever I visited my aunt.

This was way before boys started to look at me as more than a friend. I could say that life was simpler then but… it wasn't. The only time I got something of a break was when my father let mom take Gayle and me to visit our favorite aunt. It was rare that we got to visit her. I guess my father was afraid that my mom was going to take me and Gayle to New York and never come back. But no, he didn't have to worry about that for a few more years.

Most little kids count down the days until their birthdays. I counted down the days until the next trip to Aunt Anna's in New York. While most relatives had my father's sour disposition, Aunt Anna was different. She was, and is, my favorite relative.

I remember the first time I met Uncle Ben and Aunt May. Mom and Aunt Anna were sitting on the porch swing, talking. Gayle was nine and I was five; two pig-tailed kids in matching jean overalls, one blonde and one smaller redhead. We were playing in a pile of leaves that Uncle Ben had raked up earlier that day. When my mom finally realized what we were doing she jumped up from the swing and stood at the edge of the porch, screaming at us to stop. Gayle and I immediately listened to her, stepping out of the pile of leaves, a crushed look upon our faces.

We were still being scolded when Uncle Ben walked out with a rake. He smiled up at my mom as she tried to make amends for his spoiled hard work. As she spoke, he went back over to the leaves and began to rake them up into a big pile. A few swings of the rake and the pile was in order again.

"That's alright, Mrs. Watson." He leaned the rake against the side of his and Aunt May's house then stepped back from the pile of leaves. "Have at it, girls."

I remembered all of this as I listened to the memorial and I choked. My eyes were stinging, my throat burning. I didn't want to cry so I looked away from the priest. My eyes rested upon the crucified Christ and another wave of shame floated over me. Again, I looked away. For the rest of the service I stared at my knees.

I'm at Uncle Brown's now. I still don't want to cry but I do feel sad... and you know what, diary? That's okay. I'm learning that it's alright to feel sad sometimes.

**Rest in peace, Uncle Ben.**


	9. March 28th

Sunday, March 28th: 2:05 pm

Diary,

It's been a week since Uncle Ben's funeral and it seems like life is as far from normal as it ever was. The entire neighborhood is freaked out by the break-in murder of Uncle Ben. Aunt Anna tried to get together a neighborhood watch together but none of the neighbors signed up. She even went door-to-door but a lot of the people were just too afraid to get involved. I don't understand why. A neighborhood watch is exactly what their neighborhood needs!

Aunt May told me that after Uncle Ben's death, Peter took up a job at the Daily Bugle as a photographer. She couldn't have been more proud of him.

By the way, diary! Aunt May and I have really gotten closer. She's such a kind woman and she really is smart too. I feel like I can talk to her about anything… I've never really felt like that with anyone else, not even Aunt Anna.

Sure, I love Aunt Anna more than anyone else in this world but I could never discuss her own brother's abusive/alcoholic tendencies. She knows what my father did to his family but there's nothing she can do about the past. Talking about exactly what happened would only remind her that she knew what was happening to us but was completely helpless in it. I've tried talking to her but it always feels like she sometimes tries to explain his actions by blaming it on their father who was also an alcoholic.

Talking to Aunt May about what happened is different. She needs someone to talk to, someone to give advice to. I guess really what she needs the most right now is to feel needed. I can understand that. But more than that, she doesn't try to explain what he did.

I stopped by her house one day after school to check on her and we got to talking. We got onto the subject of my parents and it accidentally slipped that my father liked to drink. She nodded her head as if she knew. Perhaps Aunt Anna told her some of what happened.

"You know, I had a friend growing up whose father liked to drink." She took a quiet sip of her hot chocolate then looked down into the cup. Very calmly, she continued speaking. "Sometimes he would hurt her and her mother."

I got very quiet. My cheery smile was frozen in place with an anxiety I felt from the topic of abuse. Normally I would have changed the subject or simply run away but I didn't do that this time. Instead, I sat there with the same forced smile and listened.

"She was such a sweet girl. She really didn't deserve it." Aunt May looked up from her hot chocolate then smiled sadly. "No one ever deserves that but unfortunately, she blamed herself. She tried to turn herself into something she wasn't just so she could cope."

Aunt May sighed then took another sip of her hot chocolate. "But I don't know why I'm boring you with my drabble, dear."

And then I spilled the beans. Just like that. Eleven years of hiding and avoiding it… all down the drain in a single second. I spilled out my heart until my tongue went dry and I couldn't think of anything else to tell her. Aunt May's face never showed any sort of pity and thank God for that! It was as if she knew that I didn't want her pity. Rather, she sat there and listened, not speaking a single word and only nodding her head every so often to show that she was still listening.

When I was finally done speaking she reached out and placed her hand on my knee.

"You didn't deserve it, Mary Jane." There was such compassion in her voice that it nearly got me choked up.

There I was trying to take care of her after Uncle Ben's death and somehow she managed to turn it around so that she was taking care of ME.

We talked for awhile. She told me that they were "in a tight place" with money so Peter got a job at the Daily Bugle to help pay the bills. He was gone all the time now with work and she said that she really enjoyed my company. I told her I would be back again. I was back the very next day… and the day after that… and the day after that. I stopped by her house every day. I still had after-school rehearsals for A Streetcar Named Desire but I always squeezed in time to see her.

Aunt Anna often joined us as we chatted. Whenever she was there I didn't talk about my father but whenever she wasn't, Aunt May and I would talk a little more about him.

Aunt Anna and Aunt May LOVED to gossip. Sometimes they would talk about the news but most of the time it was about other people. They once told me a story about a crazy lady who used to live down the street. They called her "CC", which was the shortened form of Crazy Cat Lady. Supposedly "CC" had at least a dozen cats and at the most ungodly hours (2 am, 3 am, 5 am) she would put collars on each of those cats and walk them down the street like dogs. Every single one of the cats would meow and for some strange reason, "CC" felt compelled to walk by every house in the neighborhood with her gang of screeching felines. Luckily for the neighborhood, "CC" moved.

I thought that maybe they had forgotten about setting me up with Peter but I was soon to find out that the blind date was FAR from forgotten. In fact, it turned out that it was one of the more popular topics of Aunt Anna and Aunt May's whenever I was around. It was one of those evenings with them when they started talking about Peter again.

"Anna told me that you like Spider-man." Aunt May said and I nodded my head. "Peter does as well… although I'll never figure out why. He's a criminal and yet, there are some people out there who make fan clubs devoted to him. I was going to have you meet him this afternoon but he ran off to one of those Spider-man Fan Clubs."

I could tell not only by her words but her tone of voice that she didn't like Spider-man. It was then that I realized she must not have known that the pride and joy in her life and the person she disliked the most were one in the same. You better believe I wasn't going to be the one to tell her either, diary!

Aunt May and Aunt Anna began to talk about Peter but they were drowned out by thoughts of Spider-man. I was still struggling to believe that Peter was Spider-man. I didn't want to believe it but I know what I saw. The evidence was there.

"So, Monday then?" Aunt May asked, disrupting my thoughts. Obviously their ten minutes of conversation had been directed towards me but I hadn't heard a single word of it! I assumed they were planning our next gossip session. I didn't want them to know I hadn't been listening so I just nodded my head.

Suddenly their lipsticked lips moved up into excited grins.

"Great!" Aunt May spoke excitedly, "I'll make sure that Peter is here to meet you!"

My jaw nearly dropped but I forced myself to keep it tense as I spoke in a hollow voice. "Fantastic. I… I can't wait."

Noooo! Diary!!! This is bad!!! You know, I was willing to meet Peter and give him a chance BEFORE I knew he was Spider-man but now that I know I don't want to get involved in that! It's one thing to daydream about being the arachnid's main squeeze but it's a totally different thing to BE the arachnid's main squeeze. And what if I actually LIKE him?! What happens then??

…What have I done now? Smooth move, Mary Jane.


	10. March 29th: Doesn't he know I'm a catch?

Monday, March 29th: 8:00 pm

Diary,

He stood me up again. But guess what, diary?! I couldn't care less about the elusive Peter Parker!

I actually planned out my outfit this morning before school so that I could look nice when I went to Aunt May's after drama practice. I was wearing this darling blouse/skirt combo with a black belt cinched in around my waist. I looked totally gorge when I got to Aunt May's house but Peter wasn't even there.

Aunt May told me, "Peter had been so looking forward to meeting you but I don't know what happened! He went to the grocery store to buy me some milk but that was an hour and a half ago."

I smiled, tossing my hand through the air to show that I didn't care. "That's alright, Aunt May. I'd take your company over his any day!"

I'll admit it… I stayed because I was sort of interested in meeting Peter and I thought that maybe if I stayed longer he would show up. His constantly blowing me off should have turned me off but it had the opposite effect! I was even more interested in him… but now, not so much! He's clearly avoiding me! That's not fair. I should be the one avoiding him not the other way around! Someone drop this kid a clue!

An hour into our conversation, we were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Aunt May got up to answer it and as she walked to the door, I crossed my legs then smoothed out the wrinkles from my skirt. I also made sure the trendy retro scarf I wore was still arranged right on my head and not lop-sided.

The door was opened and I heard two girl's voices. They walked in and although disappointed that it wasn't Peter, I smiled up at the blonde and brunette.

"Mary Jane," Aunt May smiled at me then at the girls. "This is Betty Brant," She nodded to the brunette. "And this is Liz Allan!" She nodded to the blonde. "Girls, I'd like you to meet Mary Jane Watson! She just dropped in to visit my nephew!"

They looked at me. I recognized them from Middleton High, although Betty was rumored to have dropped out recently. When they saw me they didn't look too happy. Nevertheless, I smiled up at them and waved. In a cheery sing-song voice I said to them, "Hel-lo, girls!"

I stood up. "Well, Aunt May, it's been fun but I have to go home and start my homework. I'll stop by soon, though. Goodbye, girls." I nodded to them as I walked to the door. "It was nice meeting you both."

I walked outside and whose was parked outside in their snazzy Porsche than Flash Thompson. He stared at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. I smiled at him but his hungry gaze made me start walking a little bit faster down the sidewalk.

Oh, didn't I tell you? I broke up with Flash. He got to be a bore, really. He took it kind of hard at first but it didn't take him long to find Liz. Yeah, the blonde that was just at Aunt May's. Everyone at Middleton High knows that Flash and Peter hate each other. They've even gotten into a fist fight before. Liz must have been the only reason he was there. I wonder why they were there though. Maybe Peter and Betty are dating? Maybe Aunt May doesn't know… That would certainly explain why he was avoiding me. Goodness knows he wasn't avoiding me because of well… because of ME!

I'll have to remember to ask her about Betty next time I come over.

Well, today sucked. Peter Parker sucks! I'm going out to blow some steam with Lisa. Bye, diary!


	11. March 30th: First Encounter

Tuesday, March 30th: 2:55 am

Diary!

Gee whiz. Have I got a juicy story for ya! So, you know how I said I was going to blow off some steam with Lisa? Well we ended up blowing off some steam at a party… or, well, she did at least.

I had half a beer when I first got to the party then suddenly didn't feel like drinking any more. I was too busy talking with some friends to be taking shot after shot. I have to honestly say that this is the first time I've ever gone to a party SOBER. It was strange but I kind of liked it.

I was sober but Lisa on the other hand… it was a good thing I was there to drive her car for her. So, Lisa was off doing her own thing and I was talking to a couple of guys from the football team. Yeah, diary, it was the same guys that I totally owned in the drinking contest. They were asking me about the breakup with Flash.

"I heard you broke up with him after he took you to the hamburger joint for lunch Saturday." One guy asked. "Get the guy to pay for your meal then you dump him. That's rough, MJ."

I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed, nodding my head. "Yeah well the jerk didn't even have the decency to drive me back to my place. I had to catch a cab!"

It was then that I heard the jerk's voice. "Speak of the devil." I turned around and saw Flash across the room. As always, he was dressed in his blue letterman jacket with the red "E". He had his entourage around him in a semi-circle. I could hear that goofy, booming voice of his.

"…And I mean, I was only banging them… why would I need to know their last names?" Flash's entourage erupted into loud guffaws of laughter. A blonde wearing a mini-dress walked past Flash's group and Flash's gaze immediately locked on, his head moving as he watched her walking by. "Anyways…" Girl out of sight, his gaze returned to the entourage once more. "Did I tell you I learned how to say 'Superman lives in my pants' in Japanese?"

I sighed, shaking my head. Hot: no doubt. Idiot: even less of a doubt.

The party began to thin out. I began looking for Lisa. I found her in the kitchen, bent over, forehead leaning on the edge of the table.

"Lisa?" I asked, coming up to her to gently touch her shoulder. "You okay, hun?"

She shot up as soon as I touched her. She looked up at me and I had to suppress a giggle as I noticed the bright red dent on her forehead. She must have been leaning on the table for a while.

"Ready to go home?" I asked but her head dropped. There was a loud -SMACK- as her forehead connected with the tabletop. "Lisa!"

Not good. I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where hardly anyone was left. I needed someone to help me put Lisa into her car but the crowd had already thinned out so only a few guys were left… Flash and his entourage.

I swallowed my pride. Okay, so he left me at the hamburger joint? No big deal. I caught a cab… it was rude of him but Flash was never one known for his impeccable manners. Anyways, I dumped him so I guess we were even now.

"Hey boys," I asked and they immediately turned to face me. "I need a favor. My friend passed out in the kitchen and I need to get her into her car."

A few of the guys stepped forward but Flash pushed them aside. "Show me where she is. Time to put the guns to use." He flexed one arm then slapped the bicep beneath his jacket.

I turned around quickly so that he wouldn't see me roll my eyes. We walked into the kitchen. Lisa was a petite girl so lifting her was simple for him. We walked out of the house to where she had parked at the curb. As Flash held her, I searched her pockets for her car keys. After finding them, I unlocked the backseat and had Flash slip her inside. He shut the door then smiled down at me, leaning his arm on top of the car. In the position that he was in, I was beginning to feel a little bit trapped.

"Thanks, Flash." I took a step back from him, jingling the keys a bit as I tried to find the right one for the driver's door.

"What? No kiss?" He kept on smiling. "Come on, cherry lips."

I shook my head in disgust then opened the car door and sat down behind the wheel. "Come on, Flash. Get a clue." I shut the door and started the engine. I put the car in drive and was gone within seconds.

Let me tell you something, diary. I'm not a good driver. I like to listen to the radio way too loud, I never check my blind spots and I always speed. My lack of driving skills has never been a problem… only when I have to step up and drive around drunk friends. It was nearly one-thirty in the morning so I wasn't really worried about being pulled over AGAIN. (Yes, I've already been pulled over in a similar situation)

Well, I was almost to Lisa's house when I saw flashing blue and red lights from my rearview mirror. There's no telling how long the cop had been trying to get me to pull over. I hadn't heard a siren but that could have been because the radio was on full blast.

"Shoot!" I began to pull the Jetta over to the side of the road. "Not this again."

I rolled down my window as the cop walked up.

"Evening, miss. Or should I say good morning?" He looked into the car then into the backseat. "She okay?"

I nodded as I reached over to my purse in the passenger seat to get my license. I handed him the license as well as the registration for the car stowed away in the glove compartment. Handing him the papers, I smiled.

"She's fine. Had a little too much to drink so I'm driving her home." I tried to stay calm. I got out of my last ticket. I could get out of this one too.

The cop went back to his car to run my information. After a few minutes he came back and handed me my license and registration through the window.

"Alright, Ms. Watson." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm going to give you a warning this time… but next time you might not be so lucky. Drive safe."

"Gee, Officer! That's terrific. The last officer only gave me a warning, too!" Instantly I knew that was a BAD thing to say. I began to trip over my tongue as I said, "Umm… uhh… thanks, Officer! Have a nice night."

I rolled up the window and drove off. I guess Flash isn't the only idiot at Midtown High.

Once at Lisa's, I opened the backseat and tried to wake her up. She was semi-conscious now. Lucky for me!

I managed to get her out of the car and we walked up to her house with her leaning on me. It was like trying to walk with a dead person holding onto your neck. She would walk two steps, go limp and drag her feet then walk another two steps. Over and over again.

I found the house key on the ring of keys with her car key. As quietly as possible, I dragged her inside, up the stairs, and down the hallway. It was scary work considering her parents could wake up at any moment.

She actually stumbled over the last step on the stairwell but luckily, her parents never woke up. I got her into her bedroom and into her bed without a hitch. As quietly as I came in, I went out. Uncle Brown's was only a few blocks away if I cut through this alleyway on Grove Street. It would only take fifteen minutes.

I should have remembered that Grove Street was crawling with thugs at night. I remembered as soon as I got to the mouth of the street but by then it was too late. Going the long way would tack another twenty minutes onto my walk and I although I wasn't tired yet, I certainly didn't want to be walking any longer than I had to be.

We were so close to downtown I could hear the cars as they honked and squealed their brakes. I focused on those sounds as I walked down the street towards the alleyway.

"Just five more minutes, MJ." I told myself to try and make myself braver than I felt. I started to hear whispers and the sounds of footsteps behind me. I should have looked behind me but I couldn't. I just told myself to keep on walking, it was just my imagination. Then someone grabbed my arm and I knew it wasn't just my imagination. I started running towards the alleyway.

As fast as I could, I ran. My chest was already hurting from the effort but I wasn't going to stop. I turned my head around for a moment and saw three men chasing after me. I turned back around and continued towards the alley.

The alleyway was dark. The street was light. I ignored the dark and ran into the alley, hoping that I would be able to outrun those thugs to my house. I heard a voice from behind me. I couldn't understand what it said but I kept on running anyways. I remember I was halfway through the alley when I realized that I wasn't being chased anymore.

Not the brightest move (second dumb thing I did tonight), I stopped running and turned to the mouth of the alley. It was dark but I could easily see Grove Street because of the street lights lining its sidewalk. One thug screamed as I saw him suddenly flying through the air at the mouth of the alley. They were still on Grove Street… someone must have stopped them!!

There was the sound of something hitting a wall. I saw one of the thugs collapse so that his body was laid out at the entrance of the alley.

"Hello in there!" It was a man's voice. My heart fluttered against my chest… Spider-man stepped into the alleyway and I thought I heard angels singing. He was still a good four-hundred feet away but I knew it was him from the light cast onto the entrance of the alley from Grove Street. "Are you alright?"

Because of the dark, I knew I would only be a shadow to him. I'm glad too. I know I would be blushing.

I didn't say anything for a long time. I looked at him, his red and blue suit shining in the light. Finally I called out, "Thank you!" Then turned around and ran off towards Uncle Brown's.

_Spider-man..._

Diary, he's as amazing in person as he is on TV! I wish I would have said something other than thank you. Maybe something like "Let's have dinner!" Or maybe not that. I suppose that would have been a little inappropriate.

Hmmm… oh well. I have a feeling that isn't the last I'll be seeing of him.


	12. March 31st: Spidermenace!

Wednesday, March 31st: 8:15 pm

Diary,

Would you believe me if I told you that Betty Brant is DATING Peter? Wowee. Yeah… I didn't believe it either!

Lisa and I were sitting at lunch during school today when she told me the news. What brought up Peter, you ask? Well, I asked very nonchalantly if she knew who Peter Parker was. I had to be very nonchalant about it because we were surrounded by the most gossipy girls at Midtown High. One slip up and the whole school would know your business in less than sixty seconds. They were like hyenas for that stuff.

Lisa had her foundation compact out and was using its mirror to reapply her lipgloss. She continued coating on the shiny pink gloss to her lips as she spoke. "Yeah, Peter Parker. He's that brainy sophomore kid. Why?"

I tried to keep my tone very even. I didn't want her thinking that I was interested in him. "Yeah, that's the one. Isn't he going out with Betty?"

She popped her lips together, still peering into the compact mirror. "Betty?"

"You know… the one who dropped out a few weeks ago so that she could be a secretary at the Daily B." (We called the Daily Bugle the Daily B. What can I say? We're lazy.)

"Oh. Betty Brant. Yeah, I heard that they're going out." She snapped the compact shut then slipped it back into her purse. "Brainy Janey got a crush?"

I fought to keep myself from blushing. I don't know why I was acting like this! It was silly checking up on him when I hadn't even met the kid yet! I had never acted like this before so why him?

"Me? Puh-lease! You know I never have crushes." I lowered my eyes a bit then smirked in a sultry sort of way. "If I want a guy then I get the guy."

Speaking of crushes, I remembered last night and what had happened after dropping Lisa off.

"You would not believe what happened last night, Lis!" I suddenly had the gossip girls at full attention. Although I didn't want them to hear, I knew there was no way getting around it. If I did try to avoid telling them, they would get offended and hound me later on until I finally had to cave in and tell them everything.

"Ugh, if you're going to remind me of last night then don't." Lisa rolled her eyes, rubbing the tips of her fingers against her temples. "I have a nasty little hangover to make sure that I haven't forgotten."

"No, no, no. I mean after that. After I dropped you off I started down Grove Street towards my place when these thugs started following me." I kept the excitement out of my voice. I wanted to keep the dramatics out of my story. That way, it was less likely that the gossip girls would spread it around the school.

I looked around the table as a unanimous "Oh no!" passed between the group of girls.

"Yeah, it's no biggy. I kept on walking down the street towards this alley. I kept my cool through the whole thing because I knew that if I started running then they would run after me. Remember that girls." I crossed my arms over my chest, the very corners of my mouth turned upwards in a tiny smile. "Well, I started walking through the alley when Spider-man came and kicked the shit out of those thugs."

"Spider-man?" Lisa gasped, eyes wide. "Oh, MJ! Did he hurt you?"

"No," My brows creased. "Spider-man got to the thugs before they could get to me."

One of the gossip girls piped in, "No, not the thugs. Spider-man. Did Spider-man hurt you?"

"What are you two talking about?" I looked at Lisa then the gossip girl and finally back to Lisa again. "Spider-man saved me. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"I don't know about that, MJ. He might have stopped those thugs just so that he could have at you!" Another girl spoke up and I began to feel like this was some sort of conspiracy against me… or against Spider-man is more like it. "The Daily Bugle said that he's a new criminal on the loose. He might even be one of those disgusting mutants."

A girl squealed in disgust. "Ughh! To think, we have a mutant swinging around our city. What if he's laying spider eggs to hatch and take over?! Or what if he was going to lay eggs in your brain? Oh my God, MJ!"

"Sarah," Another girl spoke in a less than amused voice. "Spider-man is a guy. Guy spiders can't lay eggs."

"Oh, give me a break." I muttered. "The guy asked me if I was alright. He was trying to-"

But it was too late. The girls were already gossiping away about Spider-man and they even had Lisa joining in. I felt like my own best friend had turned against me!

* * *

Let's get this disappointing news down so we can find a way to remedy it! 

**Disappointing news on Wednesday, March 31st:**

1) Spider-man is being written off by the Daily B as a menace.

2) The gossip girls are, no doubt, going to have the school believing that Spider-man was trying to abduct me or worse, trying to "lay eggs in my brain".

3) Peter and Betty are dating.

**Remedies for disappointing news on Wednesday, March 31st:**

1) I'll just have to find a way to show that Spider-man isn't a menace. Maybe I can talk to some guys from the football team and get them to bully me around in a public place. That'll be sure to get Spider-man's attention. Then, when Spider-man saves me, the Daily B will HAVE to report a story that sheds a nicer light on him... Well, maybe using the football guys is a bad idea. They could get into real trouble, after all.

2) I'll just have to start spreading the truth before they spread the lie.

3) As for Peter and Betty… well, I always have liked a little competition.

Wait! Hold up and rewind! How many times do I have to remind myself that I don't even know this Parker kid! Why am I trying to steal him from Betty already? Geeze, Mary Jane.

…At least wait until you meet him to steal him from her :)


	13. April 4th

Sunday, April 4th: 2:10 pm

Diary,

Tomorrow is the big day! Tomorrow the world will see me in my greatest performance yet as Blanche DuBois in A Streetcar Named Desire. Haha! Next thing you know, diary, I'm gonna break out with a "You like me, you really like me!" speech.

But in all honesty, I'm really excited. I haven't spoken an entire sentence to mom in a super long time. Whenever she gets home from work I'm usually asleep or out partying. Our only way of communicating for the past month has been to leave notes on the fridge. Well, she knew about me getting the lead role in the play but I left her another note reminding her when the play was. This morning she left a note saying something like, "Took work off for tomorrow. Will be there! Make it a great day."

Aunt Anna is going to be there, of course, and even Gayle is going to skip dance practice so she can see me! She's bringing the boyfriend but whatever. I could care less about the creepy boyfriend as long as I have the fam sitting there in the front row. Oh, diary! They're going to be so proud. This performance will definitely wipe out that terrible Rome & Juliet fiasco from my mom's memory.

Well, I'm at the community pool right now. I want to look nice and bronzy on stage tomorrow. Unfortunately, the spotlights drown out your color so you look pale as a sheet but if I tan until I look another race entirely then I should be okay. Let's see how well I tan though… redheads have the nasty habit of frying rather than tanning.

The gossip girls got the whole school thinking that Spider-man was trying to kidnap me. I even had one kid walk up to me and ask me if it was true that Spider-man tried to lay eggs in my ear. I was speechless for a good three seconds. Finally I found my tongue again and I told the kid to "Stop watching the SciFi channel and get a life." A little mean? Yeah… okay, I admit that it was a LITTLE mean but it was NOT totally uncalled for! Someone needed to teach that kid that he can't listen to what everyone feeds him.

It's about 2:20 now so I have to stop writing now. I invited Liz Allan up to the pool and she should be here any minute.

I'll just slip you under my lounge chair and as soon as Liz leaves, I'll tell you everything that happens. Believe me; the wait will be well worth it!


	14. April 4th: The truth about Betty

Sunday, April 4th: 9:10 pm

Diary,

Sorry for the wait, diary. I kind of got tied up so I couldn't write until now. After the pool, Liz wanted me to come back to her house to meet some friends for ice cream and I just couldn't say no. At first I didn't like Liz too much but after today, I've realized that she's actually a pretty cool girl. Too bad she can't see Flash for what he really is.

Okay. Enough chit-chat. Let's get down to the juicy bits: I got the lowdown on Betty and Peter!

Liz met me at the pool at around 2:30. Dressed in a turquoise tube-top bikini, she pulled up a lounge chair and began to lay out with me. Liz is a pretty girl, no doubt. She's got a sort of California look to her. Blonde, tall, and very tan. I had never noticed how tan she was until now. Silently, and somewhat bitterly, I told myself that it was just the turquoise of her bikini that made her look so tan.

We said our hello's, made some small talk, blah blah blah. You know how it goes. After awhile we went quiet as we soaked in the cancer rays. This silence gave me time to figure out a way to bring up Peter and Betty.

"I was surprised to see you at Peter's." Liz said, completely out of the blue. It was like she had read my mind!

"Oh?" I smiled over at her for a second then rested my head back against the lounge chair again. "Well, my Aunt Anna is neighbors with Peter's aunt and I was just saying hello."

"Really?" I could tell from her tone that she was confused about something. "Then why did his aunt say that you were there to see him?"

I had my super big Jacky-O sunglasses on so Liz couldn't see when I squeezed my eyes shut. I had completely forgotten that when Aunt May had introduced Betty and Liz to me she had mentioned that I was there to see Peter. I had no way of covering that one up so it was time for a subject change!

"So, Liz… I didn't know that you and Betty were friends." This would definitely get her off that subject. It was public knowledge at Midtown High that Liz hated Betty. No one really knew why. They used to be friends but ever since Betty dropped out, Liz seemed to have nothing nice to say about her.

She coughed loudly. "Puh-lease! I'm not friends with her. She thinks we're still friends but I can't help what she thinks."

"I didn't know that." I lied. "Isn't she going out with Peter?"

"Yeah." There was a deep undertone of disgust in her voice. Could it be possible that she was jealous…? No, that couldn't have been it. She was going out with Flash, the guy she had been chasing after ever since he hit puberty. I only knew this because all that time that she had been chasing him, he had been chasing me.

There was silence and then Liz suddenly blurted out, "But I think she has a thing for Ned Leeds."

My eyes widened. I turned onto my side so that I was facing her. Slowly I lowered my sunglasses so that I could peek over the top rim. "Who is Ned Leeds?"

"A guy she works with at the Daily Bugle. She still calls me every night to gossip. It used to be all about Peter but lately it's been more about Ned." Liz also turned onto her side. "She has been moaning and crying about Peter a lot lately. Says he's hiding something from her." She shrugged her shoulders. "Peter is Midtown High's only professional wallflower. How much could he be hiding?"

I busted out laughing. How much could he be hiding? Golly. That's a good question.

We kept on talking but the conversation slowly steered away from Peter and Betty. Eventually we started to get too hot so she invited me over to her house where a few friends were going to come over for ice cream.

Her house was amazing! Three stories of pure elegance; Snowy-white marble floors, ceiling-to-floor French windows, white granite tables and countertops. My mouth would have dropped but I caught it in the knick of time. I didn't want her to see my amazement. For all she knew, I was just as rich as her. Although that definitely was not the case, I wanted her to think that.

"Mark!" Liz's voice seemed to echo through the house. We heard a little boy begin to cry and then a man's voice called out to us.

"Liz, thank God you're back." He called out and we followed his voice into the living room. The living room was decorated just like the rest of the house: in white. There were white leather sofas, a white marble floor and a white shaggy rug. In fact, the only thing that wasn't white was an orange and black Calico cat that slept on the sofa.

"I can't get this kid to stop crying." Mark said, the sound of pain evident in his voice. He sat on the shaggy white rug with a toddler. Mark faced the crying child and began to make a teddy bear dance in front of the boy's face. The little boy immediately swatted it out of Mark's hand. "See? I hate kids, Liz! You're supposed to be babysitting… not me!"

"I told you, Mark," Liz began to rummage through her purse as she kneeled in front of the boy. "All you have to do is give him chapstick and he'll be happy for hours." She found her chapstick and instantly the boy stopped crying. His eyes went wide in wonderment as Liz popped off the top and handed him the tube. "Here, honey. By the way MJ, this is my step-brother, Mark Raxton." Liz glanced up at me then stood on her feet again. Mark stood and shook my hand, a broad smile on his face.

"Pleased to meet you, MJ." Mark smiled then dropped his hand after shaking mine. "Hey, Liz? Sorry to jet on you two but I gotta go to work. I'll catch you later."

He left after Liz and I said goodbye. She looked at the little boy who was still playing with the chapstick, reapplying coat after coat of the clear balm to his lips.

"Want to give me a hand getting the ice cream stuff out?" Liz asked as she took a few steps towards what I assumed was the kitchen. "Everyone should be here soon."

"Sure but," I looked at the little boy again. "What about your brother? Is it okay if we leave him in here alone?"

"He's not my brother. He's the neighbors' kid. I just babysit him sometimes. But yeah, he'll be fine in here. I can guarantee as long as he has the chapstick in his hand, he won't move from that spot."

I still felt a little uneasy leaving him in here alone but I followed her into the kitchen anyways. We got out three flavors of ice cream (Vanilla, Strawberry and Mint Chocolate Chip) then placed a stack of spoons and plates on the marble countertop. Liz was busy looking in the cabinets for sprinkles when I started to get even more antsy about leaving that little kid alone in the living room. What if he had found a light socket…? Or what if he had gotten curious and tried to eat the tube of chapstick? Or worse than that, what if he were choking on the tube of chapstick??

"Hey, Liz?" I took a backwards step towards the living room. "I'm just going to bring that kid in here, okay?"

Head still inside the cabinet in her search for sprinkles, I heard a muffled "Sure."

I went back into the living room but the little boy wasn't sitting where he had been earlier. Instantly, I began to panic.

"Kid?" I had to opt for "kid" since I didn't know his real name. "Where did you go?" I looked around the living room. No kid there. I went back into the hallway leading to the living room. Still no kid there.

I retraced my steps and stepped into the living room once again. I looked behind one sofa but the kid wasn't there either. By this point my heart was pounding against my chest. I looked behind the other larger sofa and, to my utmost relief, the kid was huddled behind it.

I sighed in relief. "Phew! Why are you hiding back here, kid?" The little boy looked up at me, his big green eyes looking right into mine. "…And what are you doing?"

"Chapped." He said simply, as if that one word could explain it all. My brows furrowed in puzzlement as I looked down on him. It was then that I noticed the placid Calico cat in front of him.

My eyes immediately began to water as laughter wracked my body.

The toddler held the cat's tale in his hand and lifted it up so that he could carefully apply the chapstick onto the cat's little butt.

"Kitty chapped." He said again as he continued to apply the chapstick.

Diary, if you could see a cat's little butt you would agree that to a toddler, it would look very chapped!

Now, we must ask ourselves… is this the first time that he had done this with Liz's chapstick or the 100th time?


	15. April 5th: The play

Monday, April 5th: 11:15 pm

Diary… oh, diary…

I wish you were a real person...

I need someone to talk to like I used to talk to Gayle.

I wonder if I wish upon the North Star, will you turn into a real person?

You know, sort of like Pinnochio? He was made of wood. You're made of wood.

It could work.

…But then again, we can't see any stars in New York…

The play was wonderful. Everyone remembered their lines and performed like professionals. Throughout the entire play, I imagined my mom sitting in the front row, a great big smile on her face as she craned her neck upwards to look at me… her daughter, her pride and joy.

The curtain dropped. The play was over and I stood behind the velvet curtains, a great big stupid grin on my face as the entire cast joined me on stage. We all held hands and the curtain was pulled back to reveal the audience. Everyone in the auditorium was giving us a standing ovation.

The house lights came back on and for the first time that night, the cast on stage could see the faces of the people in the crowd. I looked down at the first row and only Aunt Anna was there. She had a small bouquet of daisies in her hand. When I had changed out of my stage clothes I went out to meet her.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Aunt Anna threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. When she released me, she handed me the bouquet of daisies. "You looked beautiful up there, Mary Jane. A modern-day Elizabeth Taylor!"

I was still smiling but my eyes continued to search the crowd. She must have seen me looking for the rest of my family because her smile went slack.

"Mary Jane, sweetheart," She began but paused until I looked at her. "I know your mother wanted to be here but…"

"Aunt Anna, stop." I tried my best to continue smiling but I knew it was starting to crack. "Where is my mother? And where's Gayle?"

"Your mother and Gayle had an argument." She spoke calmly, very matter-of-fact. "Your mother said some things to Gayle and she…" Aunt Anna stopped again, gray eyes looking to either side of her. She looked back at me. I suddenly noticed the pained look in her eyes and I knew that I wasn't going to like what she had to tell me. "Sweetheart, how about you stay the night with me tonight?"

"Tell me what's going on, Aunt Anna." I added a quick, "Please?"

"Gayle is gone. She left New York to get married to Timmy…"

I continued to smile…

I must have looked like a lunatic because I knew there was fear in my eyes…

Fear like there's fear in the eyes of a deer before it's plowed down by a truck…

"D-don't be silly, Aunt Anna. Gayle would never leave me. Now, I'm sorry but I have to go home." I was in a daze of sorts. I held the bouquet of daisies slack by my side as I took a few steps towards the auditorium doors. "Thank you for coming, Aunt Anna. I'll stop by tomorrow after school."

"Mary Jane, please wait." Aunt Anna tried to stop me but I was already walking out of the auditorium. I didn't stop once, not once until I got to Uncle Brown's.

As soon as I got to Uncle Brown's, I ran upstairs to Gayle's room. Her dresser drawers were wide open and clothes were scattered over the floor.

I ran from Gayle's room and went to find my mom. She had locked herself in her bedroom. I spoke sweetly through the door in an attempt to coax her out but she remained silent. Finally, I lost my temper and I slammed my fists against the door.

"What did you do?!" I screamed until my face grew hot. "What did you do?!"

I kicked the door then ran to my bedroom and slammed my door shut.

* * *

Gayle is gone, diary. She was the only person in this world who really knew me, the real me, and now she's gone. She left me in this house with these monsters! 

Diary, explain to me…please! Tell me how she could do this to me! How could she be so Goddamn heartless to leave me here. She could have at least taken me with her! I don't like her boyfriend, or husband, Timmy but I could have pretended!

She was supposed to be my sister... my best friend...

Tell me, diary... If family can stab you in the back, what does that say about everyone else?


	16. November 1st: I found you!

Sunday, November 1st: 12:30 pm

Diary,

I found you for the first time in over eight months. You were covered in dust beneath my bed.

Its strange how after all this time, I still refer to you as, well, "you".

Things are so different now, diary. Gayle had a baby two months ago. A little boy she named Timothy (after his father). I visited them in Pittsburgh last month. It took me three month's worth of tips from waitressing to buy a Greyhound ticket to see them.

I shouldn't have done it.

Sure, it was great to see Gayle again but what I saw in her husband's eyes frightened me… Over dinner, Gayle announced that she was pregnant again. The look I saw in her husband's eyes made me sick to my stomach. There was a trapped look in his eyes. The sort of saddening look that a caged bird has in its eyes as it beats against its cage. The sort of look my father always had in his bloodshot eyes.

Even though I was still sort of angry with her, I wanted nothing more than to grab her and my nephew and drag them away from that place. Gayle assured me that their marriage was doing fine and I only hope she was telling the truth.

Mom is really sick. She refuses to eat. The doctors say for the most part, she's fine physically but mentally, it's like the life has been sucked right out of her. She doesn't talk anymore. She lays in bed all day, deep purple bags beneath her eyes and a blank look in her graying eyes. She's the reason I had to get a job at the Corner Diner. It doesn't pay much but if I work long hours I can make enough to pay Uncle Brown the rent that she normally would have paid him.

I don't hate her like I hate my father but I do resent her. Maybe I'm selfish... I feel like she's trying to steal my childhood from me; Like she's always been trying to steal my childhood from me. God, I sound so selfish but if she would just get out of bed! Force some food down her throat! She would get better, I know she would! And I could be doing the things that normal teenagers do!

I can still remember writing my last diary entry. I was sitting Indian-style on the floor of my bedroom, right where I'm sitting now. I was furious with Gwen and my mother for the whole situation. I felt so betrayed. I remember writing, "How could she be so Goddamn heartless to leave me here, alone." And then throwing you.

I didn't look where I threw you. All I heard was a thump as you landed on the wood floor and then the sound of you skidding across it. You ended up beneath my bed and I only just now found you.

The truth is… I only found you because I'm packing all of my stuff up. I'm moving out of Uncle Brown's. For the last four months, I've tried to work my ass off to pay him rent but I can't do it anymore. Aunt Anna said that her door was always open for me but I didn't want to burden her. It seems though that I'm going to have to do just that. I can't continue to work like I've been working, diary. I fall asleep in class everyday. Teachers and students alike, think its because I've been partying too hard. The truth of it is, I've been WORKING too hard. I thank my lucky stars that none of my classmates have walked into the diner while I was waitressing so I can keep up this "party-girl" façade.

No one knows what's happening at home, diary. It's just how it's always been; Watsons don't "air out their dirty laundry" (as mom would say).

I was voted "Party Animal" by the junior class. It's funny because I don't even party anymore. I have a job now and don't have time for it. I've had to give up things just to make enough money for rent and groceries and occasionally, clothes for me. Clothes. That's just something I'm not willing to sacrifice.

There are some days where I come home from work and I nearly cry over how much I hate her. Eventually I calm down and I tell myself that I don't hate her. I only resent her and even though I may resent her, I can't give up on her. She's still family and she's the only family who hasn't run away from me.

I'm now a Sophomore at Midtown High. I'll be a Junior next August. I don't see college in my future because frankly, I don't need it to be an actress. I might have had to give up everything else in my life but I will **never** give up my dream.

Mom gave up her dream for love but we've seen where _that_ got her. You better believe I'm not gonna make that mistake.

Things will get better. I just have to keep on smiling, keep on laughing and good things will happen. Just gotta keep telling myself that.

Oooh, diary… I'm so glad I found you. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders just from writing all this shit down.

Thank you!


	17. November 3rd: RIP Madeline Watson

Tuesday, November 3rd: 1:00 am

Diary.

I can't seem to put down in words what has happened today.

She's de.

She's dead.

My mother. My beautiful mother.

Diary, I wish you were a real person. I wish you could hold me in your arms and let me cry my pain out. If I could even cry it out. My God. Today is the worst day of my life.

After Gayle moved out, my mother took a turn for the worse. She refused to eat. I'm ashamed to admit that on multiple occasions I had become so frustrated and at a loss of what to do, I would sit down on her tiny lap, jam my thumb and index finger into either side of her jaw to wedge open her mouth then quickly shovel spoonfuls of liquid food inside. But even my shameful desperation wasn't enough to save her.

I came home from school to Uncle Brown's house. The majority of my belongings had already been hauled off to my Aunt Anna's but my bed was the last to go. I remember walking in through the front door and throwing my school books onto the sofa.

"Hellooo?" I called out, a faint smile on my lips. "Mom? Are you home?" Of course she had to be home. Since Gayle left, she never left the house. She didn't have the energy or the willpower.

A chill ran down my spine. Something was _off_. My heart sank as I rounded the corner of the living room into the dining room. There, hunched over the small round dining room table was my mother's skeletal frame. I sped up my step as beads of sweat formed on my brow.

"Mom?" I walked closer. She was eerily still. "Mom, are you okay?" I reached forward to touch her with my fingertips and I knew she was gone. I should have cried out. I should have cursed the heavens above and cursed my father for abusing us, my sister for abandoning us or even my mother for leaving us all behind but I didn't. I dropped to my knees so hard that they're now black and blue. I ran my hands through my hair and sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry you've had it so rough, ma. I'm sorry I couldn't have made it better for you." I felt the tears brimming on my bottom lashes. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough to make you stay. I-… I love-…" I began to sway back and forth. Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps slamming against the floor as my uncle ran towards us. I was so wrapped up in the moment that I hadn't heard him come in.

"Madeline!" He was already sobbing. "What have you done, Mary Jane!" He wrapped his flabby arms around my mother's emaciated frame and hugged her against his chest. I was already on my feet and the tears that had finally threatened to fall were hungrily sucked back in.

"I found her like this." My voice was hollow, a mere echo of itself.

"Get out of my house!" He bellowed, spittle flying from his lips. "It's your fault! You and Gayle and that piece of shit father of your's! You all killed my sister! You all did this to her!"

I left. I didn't stay a second longer. I immediately hailed a cab and came to my Aunt Anna's. I walked right into her living room without knocking. She greeted me with a smile and asked me how school was. There was a long pause as I mechanically walked through the living room and began to walk up the stairs. Half-way up the stairs, I stopped.

"My mother is dead." I didn't turn my head to look down at her as she stood at the foot of the stairwell, peering up at me but I knew from the audible and horrified gasp what sort of expression her face would hold. Before she could speak I added politely, "Call Gayle, please."

"Mary Jane," She took a couple steps towards me. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

I felt nothing.

"I'm alright, thanks." I began to walk upstairs. "Let Gayle know. She'll want to know."

Today is the worst day of my life, diary.

Rest in Peace Madeline Jane Watson.


	18. November 4th: SpiderMan

Wednesday, November 4th: 6:35 am

Good morning, Diary.

I haven't slept. Today is going to be a doozy.

Gayle called seven times. Aunt Anna picked up every time and when Gayle asked for me, Aunt Anna would stand on the other side of my closed door and call gently to me, "Mary Jane, Gayle is on the phone. Would you like to speak to her?"

"Tell her I'm busy, please." Six times. Until finally, on the seventh attempt, I was the one who picked up the phone. I didn't even wait a second for her to say something.

"Gayle." My voice was icy.

"MJ!" Gayle's voice was pitched an octave too high for her normal range. Sorrow riddled her words, causing them to crack strangely. "Oh God, MJ! I can't believe this! Timmy left me. After I heard about mom… he couldn't take it anymore. He snapped-… he left us."

My brows furrowed. I cradled my forehead in my hand. I knew this was going to happen! I saw it in his eyes when I visited them. The look of a caged bird desperately beating its wings against its confinement.

"Well," My words held no emotion as I straightened my spine and looked straight ahead of me. "That's too bad."

How could I be so heartless? Gayle was instantly crushed by my words.

"What am I supposed to do now? Two kids and no one to provide for us!" She screeched then broke into sobs.

"You'll figure it out, Gayle. You're a smart girl." I turned and stared out of the window facing the Parker's residence. Peter's light was on. "Look, I've got to go."

I hung up before she could speak another word.

Emotionally, I'm broken. Love terrifies me. The thought of getting married or having children is synonymous with death. Your life ends after "happily ever after." Because of these thoughts, I constantly feel like an alien. Is it strange to feel nauseous over commitment?

I watched as Peter's light went out. A shadowy figure moved in his bedroom. I turned off my own light and stared blankly outside into the dark night.

I don't know why but I suddenly began to think about Spider-man. I had to meet him. He's my kindred spirit. He hides behind a mask just like me. Oh, Diary, I've never known someone like me.

Mark my words: I'll meet him.

…Better yet, I'll do more than just meet him.


	19. November 7th: Madeline Watson

Saturday, November 7th: 11:36 am

Diary.

As I write these words, I'm sitting in a cemetery beneath a beautiful crepe myrtle tree. The white blossoms look like snow as the gentle wind shakes the branches and causes the flowers to rain down on the grass around me.

I'm so drained.

My mother was buried today. In a quiet service with only five people attending, my 40 year old mother was laid to rest in the cold ground. While the priest recited the final words before her casket was lowered into the earth, everyone cried. Except me. And when the priest closed the bible in his hands then turned to walk away, everyone followed him. Except for my Aunt Anna and I.

"Mary Jane," She wiped the tears from her eyes with a white lace handkerchief she pulled from her coat pocket. "My beautiful, sweet niece. You need to cry."

I tore my gaze from the casket resting in its cavernous hole. Looking down at her, I offered a little smile.

"You're going to make yourself sick," She tried to smile back but the sudden rush of tears caused her smile to break. "You always put on such a brave face but you can't fool me, Mary Jane Watson. I know what your father did to you, what he did to all of you." She shook her head slowly, disgust warping her kind face, "I see it in your eyes when you daze off and you don't think anyone is looking at you," Her words trailed off as she sobbed, dabbing the tears away furiously with a shaking hand, "You'll suffer a worse fate than death if you hide behind a mask your whole life."

I grimaced inwardly and returned my gaze to my mother's burial site.

"Aunt Anna…" I bit down on my lip. "I appreciate your concern but I'm fine. I promise I'm fine."

I turned on my heels before the conversation could continue any further. As I walked away, I knelt down and scooped up my trench coat (where you were hiding, diary) then trudged up a large hill overlooking my mother's plot. I took a seat at the base of this crepe myrtle and have been sitting here ever since. Uncle Brown has gone back to his home while my Aunt Anna, Gayle and Gayle's son Timmy have left for Aunt Anna's.

I've _never_ been one for cemeteries but I don't know where else to go...


	20. November 14th: Big Changes

Saturday, November 14th: 11:00 pm

I suppose you're wondering where I disappeared to, diary.

I guess this is the part where I should be recapping you on the past week since my mother's funeral. Well, after I came home from the funeral, Gayle and Aunt Anna dropped a bomb on me. They were sitting at the dining room table, serious as could be.

"MJ, sit down." Gayle motioned to the chair across from her. I cocked a single brow then begrudgingly took a seat.

"What's up?" I looked from Gayle's solemn face to Aunt Anna's. Something was going on. Aunt Anna could hardly look me in the eye.

"Well, honey, we were thinking." Aunt Anna tried to smile. She began to ramble nervously, "Since it's just Gayle and Timmy now, with another little one on the way, and now that your mother has passed, maybe you two should be together. To lean on each other during this hard time."

I didn't like where this conversation was going.

"What are you saying?" I looked from Aunt Anna to Gayle. Gayle reached her hand out and placed it on top of mine. She gently squeezed it then smiled.

"You're going to come live with me in Pittsburgh."

My heart sank. I wanted to scream, stomp my feet, throw the chair I was sitting on against the wall.

"So. Let me get this straight," I kept my voice calm but I couldn't help the sarcastic smirk that crossed over my face. "You made the mistake of abandoning me and mom so you could marry that loser and now that he's abandoned you, I have to pay for your mistakes?"

"Mary Jane Watson." Aunt Anna was horrified.

"No, Aunt Anna." I looked at her, my eyes pleading. "This isn't fair! Don't send me away. Please, don't send me away."

Gayle stood up so suddenly that her chair went toppling over. She held her swollen, pregnant belly as she glared down at me.

"You hateful little girl!" Her blue eyes were narrowed into tiny slits. When she spoke, her words were like venom. "Get your bags together. We're leaving in the morning. You're still underage and mom left me as your legal guardian. We'll deal with your transfer papers for school once we get back to Pittsburgh. I don't want to hear another word about this! You have no choice in this, MJ!"

Aunt Anna bit her lip, obviously distraught about the situation. "I'm so sorry, Mary Jane."

And that was the last of that conversation. I left for Pittsburgh in the morning, telling my friends that it was just a vacation. Life there (for the short week that I was there) was awful. My nephew is unruly and refuses to listen to a single word Gayle or I tried to say to him. After six days of family life Hell, I called Aunt Anna and begged her to let me come back. She talked to Gayle and although Gayle wasn't happy about it, she allowed me to move back to Aunt Anna's the next day.

So here I am. Sitting on the windowsill of a room slightly larger than a closet, surrounded by boxes but so unbelievably happy to be back in my kindred city of New York.

I'm even more convinced now than ever that the "Happily Ever After," soccer mom life is **NOT** for me. I feel bad for Gayle… trust me, I do… but I won't pay for her mistakes. I'm going to be something and I won't let her or _anyone_ stand in my way.


	21. November 15th: Meeting the boy next door

Sunday, November 15th: 10:36 pm

Dear Diary,

I met the boy next door today.

I mean... I met Peter Parker today.

I'm jumping ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning...

"It appears Spider-Man and the unknown vigilante are now duking it out right in the middle of First Avenue South!" I gripped the edge of the couch, pulling myself closer towards the television. The screen flashed from the announcer to the ensuing battle. "Who is this new man? Is he good, or is he bad? Is he related to the other vigilante, the Rhino? We have no information on this unknown figure at the current moment but stayed tuned! We will provide you with the most up-to-date news as we get it!"

Did I mention that Spider-Man has gone from wrestler to superhero? _Oh yeah_, diary. His hotness factor has just increased tenfold.

"Mary Jane, darling," Aunt Anna was busy in the kitchen. I heard the clang of pots and could smell the delicious aroma of pot roast floating through the air. "May and her nephew are coming over for dinner tonight."

My eyes went wide with surprise. I tore my gaze from the television to look in the direction of the kitchen.

"What?" I squeaked, my jaw dropping. "Tonight? Why didn't you warn me?"

Aunt Anna peeked her head around the corner and smiled sweetly, "I thought I had. I'm sorry, honey." She paused for a moment to allow time to recover from my momentary shock. "Could you run by the store and grab some juice? We're all out."

I sighed, glanced back at the television then stood up slowly. The battle was getting intense. Spider-Man had just delivered a mean uppercut to the unknown man, sending him backwards into an electric generator. Our power flickered briefly. I glanced up at the flickering light fixture and a faint smile of wonder passed over my face. Back on the television screen, Spider-Man was soaring away from the scene. The unknown man was obviously done for today, his charred body motionless on the street.

"No prob, Aunt Anna." I grabbed my cardigan sweater and wallet then began the short walk down the road to the corner store. It was a crisp November evening. The grey sky threatened to spew out snow but luckily for me, it remained clear. The walk only took ten minutes and I was able to grab the juice, pay for it, walk home and be back within twenty minutes. I walked up the porch steps, reached out for the doorknob and stopped short.

I could hear voices inside. One was clearly Aunt May's. The other was a man's voice. I quickly pulled back my hand.

"So," I whispered to myself, a smile playing upon my lips, "The moment of truth has arrived." I sat the juice down then pulled my cardigan off. I was dressed to the nines in a pair of slim khaki pants and a skin-tight black tank top. Even I knew how devastating my figure could be and as always, I was dressed to stun. I smoothed out the top then draped the white cardigan over my arm.

Deep breath.

I reached out and turned the doorknob.

Locked. _Of course!_

I rolled my eyes. "So much for my smooth entrance." Again I reached forward, ringing the doorbell this time.

"That must be her," I faintly heard Aunt Anna's voice. "Coming, Mary Jane!" Her heavy footsteps could be heard as she crossed the living room towards the door. I heard the lock sliding over. The door swung open and the sudden warmth of the home washed over me.

Aunt Anna opened the door wide, allowing me full view of everyone inside. Aunt May was sitting in the dining room while Peter sat on the couch closest to the door. His brown eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape.

"Peter Parker," Aunt Anna noticed his stunned expression and it obviously pleased her greatly. She chuckled before continuing her introduction, "I'd like you to meet my niece."

I stepped through the threshold, my eyes never leaving Peter's. He was cute, in a nerdy sort of way.

"You mean…" He stood up quickly, "THAT's Mary Jane..?"

I laughed, nodding my head. I put one hand on my curvy hip then winked, "Face it, Tiger… You just hit the Jackpot!"


	22. November 16th: So we meet again

Monday, November 16th: 9:07 am

So. I expect that this is the part where you expect me to dish everything, Diary.

Dream on.

Haha! I'm just kidding, Diary. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. Sunday night went pretty well, if I may say so myself. After Parker finally pulled himself together, that is.

"You mean…" Parker had stood up quickly, his eyes wide. "THAT's Mary Jane…?"

Obviously he had been expecting someone along the lines of a dowdy Gwen Stacy-type (haha, kidding again! …kind of…) I angled my stance, cocking one hip to the side. I placed one hand on my hip then winked, laughing at his comical expression.

"Face it, Tiger…" My tone dropped to a sultry purr, "You just hit the Jackpot!"

My words caused the corners of his mouth to pull up and he laughed, raking his fingers through the mop of brown hair atop his head. He shook his head in disbelief, his eyes never leaving mine. Aunt May saved the moment from any sort of awkward silence by rushing over and engulfing me in her arms.

"Mary Jane!" She called merrily, pulling away and holding me at arm's length. She examined me closely, a warm smile playing upon her weathered lips. "You get prettier every time I see you."

Aunt Anna chuckled and closed the door behind me.

"May, let's leave the young people to themselves." Aunt Anna winked at me as she shuffled across the living room towards the kitchen.

"Oh, oh, yes, let's!" Aunt May nodded her head, giggling under her breath, "Peter." She stopped for a moment and turned to Peter. She was so excited she was nearly bouncing on her toes as she reached out to gently touch his arm. "Why don't you tell Mary Jane about the research you are doing at that university of your's?"

I prayed that he wouldn't.

"Or tell her about the Bugle!" She patted his arm excitedly, "Or-or about your pictures of Spider-Man!"

My eyes lit up, my brows raising slightly.

"May!" My aunt sang gaily from the kitchen, "Your pumpkin pie is going to burn to a crisp if you don't get your tush in here immediately!"

"Goodness gracious!" Without another word, Aunt May rushed away to leave us staring blankly at each other from across the room. For a moment, there was only silence and the soft crackling of the fireplace. Peter placed his hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks, smiling confidently. Oh, how our roles had suddenly reversed. In this brief moment, Peter seemed the more confident individual between us. What had happened to the book-smart boy I had observed from Aunt Anna's window so many years ago? What had happened to the quiet teenager from Middleton High School? It seemed that this tall, supremely confident stranger had taken his place.

"So, Ms. Watson." He was the first to break the silence. He let his words trail off, his smile broadening across the span of his chiseled face.

"So, Mr. Parker." I countered, finally grabbing hold of my confidence.

"We meet again." His blue eyes bore into mine. With his words, my blood turned to ice. My heart stopped beating. I felt that surely, even my lungs had given up drawing air.

_We meet again?_ My thoughts flashed to Spider-Man's rigid body pressed against mine. Oh, it would have been flesh against flesh had it not been for the thin barrier of cloth and spandex between us. His breath was hot against the hollow of my throat. I was pinned against the cold, damp brick wall of the alleyway. It had only been a dream… hadn't it?

My brows were furrowed, my cheeks hot and flushed a deep red. I pushed the thought of Spider-Man from my mind.

"I'm sorry, Peter. Have we met before?"

He chuckled, pulling one hand from his pocket to sheepishly slide it through his hair. "When you and I were little… I was about nine and you couldn't have been any older than five or six… You really don't remember?"

I shook my head. I couldn't remember but that wasn't surprising. It's typical for someone to not remember events from when they were young. However, I don't remember the majority of events from the first twelve years of my life. Around the time my mother packed our bags and we ran away from my father, my memory began to sharpen.

"When you and your family would visit your aunt next door. I think it was Thanksgiving one year," He pulled his hands from his pockets then lowered himself slowly onto the couch. He was no longer looking at me but looking into the fireplace across the room. I sensed that a part of him was gone as he dove deep into his memory. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands and continued his story. "My Uncle Ben was raking leaves in the space between our homes. He had raked a big pile of leaves together then gone inside to grab a glass of water. I was standing on the porch watching him work. When he went inside, you materialized out of nowhere." He did not pull his eyes from the crackling fire but the side of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "I hid behind a column and watched as you tip-toed over to the pile of leaves, looking around with eyes big as saucers. When you knew the coast was clear, you dove headfirst into the pile. I shot out from behind the column and shouted at you. I don't remember how you did it but somehow, you were able to convince me to join you. We couldn't have been playing for more than a couple minutes when your father grabbed you."

I grimaced. It was no small wonder why I didn't remember this.

"He scared the both of us. Jerked you right up out of the leaves and began to yell at you. I stood there, wanting to say something to make him stop yelling but I was too… meek? I don't know. Cowardly, maybe. But Uncle Ben came over and put his hand on your father's shoulder and told him that it was fine. He didn't mind if we played in the leaves."

I didn't want to hear any more. I came to sit down on the couch as well.

"You miss him." It wasn't a question. His story had made the turn from describing our first encounter to a solemn remembrance of his uncle.

He pulled his gaze from the fire and smiled at me.

"So, you see, Ms. Watson, we _have_ met before."


	23. November 17th: The Rhino

November 17th: 11:48 pm

I was falling. The only sound was the air whistling as I fell two, three, five stories. I was gaining speed the more I fell.

It occured to me that this could be the **end**.

_Any last words,_ _MJ_? My psyche taunted me as I plummeted from the forty-eight story building. There were no revelations. There were no last minute repents. My life didn't even flash before my eyes. Strangely enough, I was at peace. Utter peace.

**DOINGGGGGG**

That was the sound I heard as my backside fell into a webbed cradle strung between two buildings. I shut my eyes tight as the webbed cradle squeaked under the pressure of my weight and the G-force I had accumulated on my twenty-story descent. Like a rubberband, the webbing stretched as it absorbed the energy created from my fall and I continued downwards for another fifteen feet. I gripped the thick strands of webbing at either side and prayed it wouldn't snap. Suddenly, the webbing stopped moving downwards and quickly catapulted upwards. I felt a sudden, brief pressure of G-force against my entire body as the webbed cradle pulled itself taught again. I was still. I layed quietly for a moment, listening to my soft but ragged breath. Strands of red hair covered my face. I tore my grip from the spiderweb and pulled the veil of hair from my eyes.

The spiderweb shook.

"Hang tight for a second, 'kay?"

Fighting against the stickiness of the webbing, I turned my head to where the voice was coming from. Spider-Man was perched on the edge of the web. I laughed.

"I don't think I'll be going anywhere fast." I turned my head to look below me. About twenty stories below, a big group of people had formed. I could hear the soft gargle of their worried cries. "Just," I turned back to look at Spider-Man but he was gone. "...don't forget me..."

I sighed, turning my head again to look up into the sky.

How did I get myself into this predicament, Diary? Let me start from the beginning...

Cut scene to about eleven this morning: Peter knocks on Aunt Anna's door. She answers and although I'm upstairs finishing my makeup, I can hear her excited chatter and his low, masculine voice. In order to save him from being bored to tears, I put away my makeup and check myself in the mirror beside my bedroom door: dark jeans, black high-heeled boots up to my knees and a decently modest (yeah right) green blouse. I rush downstairs. They're both sitting in the living room. The tv is on.

"Heya, tiger." I lean against the archway.

"Hey, MJ." He smiles, looking sheepish as his eyes sweep over me. Something on the tv suddenly catches his attention. He turns.

'...Rhino is destroying the city! Six police cars have been wrecked already and there's no sign of when this destruction will end!' The announcer spoke quickly, fear tipping his voice. I turn my head. Peter seems agitated. His knuckles are white as he balls his fists on his lap. Only I know why he seems so upset by this announcement.

Putting to use my best acting skills, I turn back to the tv and shout excitedly, "Oh, Petey! Let's go check it out! We'll catch you later, Aunt Anna!"

Before anyone can say anything, I grab Peter's arm, pull him from the couch and out the front door. I don't want to waste another second. He needs to get there quickly so Spider-Man can save the day. There's a motorcycle parked at the curb. Without skipping a beat, I jump on the back and put on the spare helmet that was buckled on the side of the bike. Peter is still standing on the porch looking confused.

Before he can protest about me going with him, I shout again and motion for himoverset a move on. "Let's go before we miss any of the action!"

"Mary Jane," He walks down the steps of the porch onto the lawn. "This is too dangerous."

"Come on, scaredy cat." I pout, jutting out my bottom lip. "I'll stay out of the way. Please, please, please?" I bat my long eyelashes at him. Apparently this does the trick. He sighs heavily then relents, walks over to the bike and sits down.

"Your aunt is going to have my hide if something happens to you." He puts on his helmet. I lean forward, pressing my breasts into his back and crossing my arms over his stomach.

"I can take care of myself." I purr into his ear. I can almost feel the shiver that runs down his spine before he kickstarts the bike and speeds off towards the city.

We get into the heart of the city in record time. It's pure chaos. Police cars barricade the street. We can hear a barrage of gunshots. New Yorkers are running, screaming away from the scene. Peter parks the bike in front of the barricade of police cars. He nearly jumps from the bike, kicking the kickstand down and pulling off his helmet in one quick, fluid-like motion. I slowly get off the bike. I can feel his agitation mounting as he peers down the long road. Far off in the distance, we can see Rhino and a wall of policemen. The ground quivers as Rhino charges at the wall and three policemen are sent flying through the air as they collide with the beastly man's skull. Again, the barrage of gunfire is heard echoing through the empty city street but it's clear that bullets are no match. They seem to bounce right off Rhino's hard, armored skin. A crowd of panicked individuals engulf me as they run from the scene and although I can still see Peter, I pretend to look away in panic as I'm engulfed by strangers in order to give him the perfect exit so Spider-Man can save the day.

"LOOK!" One of the individuals from the crowd scream excitedly, pointing into the sky. "SPIDER-MAN!"

This declaration seems to send some people deeper into a frenzy of panic while others stop running away to turn and look where the man was pointing in the sky. Sure enough, Spider-Man was swinging over the police car barricade. He dropped from the sky in front of the police men, standing Peter Pan-style in front of Rhino, legs spread out, balled up fists on his hips. I couldn't hear a word he spoke but I heard Rhino's deafening rumble of laughter.

"What makes you think YOU can stop me, puny man?" The Rhino laughs again.

Wanting to get closer to the action, I climb over the hoods of the police cars. The crowd screams for me to get back, that it's dangerous where I'm going. One man even tries to grab my arm as I slid over the hood of the police car but I wrench myself free.

I begin to run towards the line of policemen but stop abruptly when I see a figure soaring towards me. It's Spider-Man. Rhino's deep laughter rings out as Spider-Man comes hurtling towards me. I roll to the side, barely missing a head-on collision. Spider-Man hits the ground and rolls, landing on all fours. He crouches, fingers gripping the asphalt. From his peripheral, he notices me.

"What the Hell-" Surprised to see me in the danger zone, he is caught unaware. Rhino realizes this and begins to charge at him. "Get away from here!"

I notice Rhino before he does.

"WATCH OUT!" I scream, pointing at the mammoth figure charging towards him. It's too late. Rhino throws his entire body into Spider-Man and I can hear an audible "_OOMPH!"_ as he is sent soaring thru the air again.

Rhino turns towards me. Although he is mammoth and his body is covered in an animalistic armor, his face is human. He smirks at me, all the evil in the world gathering on that awful face.

"Well, hello there, pretty girl." He turns towards me, bent down in a stance a Football player would make before a play. Every fiber of my being braced for a direct hit. The asphalt beneath my feet shook as he began to charge towards me. I was frozen in place.

I heard a soft "zip, zip, zip" as webbing was continuously wrapped around Rhino's body, slowing him down to barely a crawl. Spider-Man stood behind him, grunting loudly as he lassoed the enourmous beast and fought to keep him from moving forward.

"I can't hold him, Mary Jane!" Spider-Man screamed between clenched teeth, "You need to run!"

Rhino let out a howl that sent shivers down my spine. Sure enough, the webbing was already beginning to snap as Rhino fought against it; brute strength. Before he was able to escape the coccoon of webbing, I turned on my heels and ran throughg the revolving doors of the building directly behind me. I paused in the lobby for a moment, looking around for stairs or an elevator. In the corner of the lobby, adjacent to the welcome desk, a pair of metal doors. I had found it! I sprinted towards it and as I ran, my heels slipped on the freshly waxed marble floor and I tumbled to my knees. As I scrambled to my feett again, I heard glass crashing and metal whining as it was twisted from its frame. Behind me, Rhino was hurtling through the side of the building, head down, shards of glass glittering across his grey skin. I ran, throwing myself against the metal doors of the elevator, desperately pressing the button to open the doors.

"Here kitty kitty." Rhino's voice behind me as he taunted me. The ground began to shake as he took his sweet time, one step at a time. I kept on pressing the button for the elevator, my heart pounding. The earth began to shake more persistently as Rhino's stride quickened. I turned to face him, not wanting to be attacked from behind.

10... 9... 8...

"Let's dance." Rhino shoved his fist into the marble floor, sending tremors into the ground that knocked me off my feet. I looked up and behind me.

6... 5... 4...

He grabbed my foot and was about to drag me to him.

3... 2...

SPLAT.

Rhino growled as a thick patty of webbing was shot into his eyes.

DING.

The doors of the elevator opened and I scrambled backwards into the elevator.

"Go to the top!" I couldn't see him but I heard Spider-Man's voice as the doors began to close. Rhino was clawing at the webbing, laughing deeply.

"You can't get away from me, my dear! Try as you might..." The Rhino's laughter died as the doors shut. I rushed to my feet and pressed the button for "48."

* * *

...to be continued... ;)

Excuse any typos. I just wrote this entry on my new iPad. Nifty!


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